


Down in Dallas

by phenomanon



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Crack, Dirty Jokes, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Inspired by a Country Song, M/M, Prompt Fic, Singing, TikTok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phenomanon/pseuds/phenomanon
Summary: Greg can't stop singing in the lab. Nick wishes he would.Based on a writing prompt requested by panchostokes (badwolfrun): “If you sing that song one more time I will kill you.”
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	Down in Dallas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [panchostokes (badwolfrun)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/gifts).



> For my amazing brain twin panchostokes (badwolfrun) who sent me a prompt on tumblr. I hope you like the fic, tysm for requesting it! 💖 (Don't mind all the crack 😂)

[ **Song: Trey Lewis - Dicked down in Dallas** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUQq7gzZt-8&ab_channel=NewCountrySongs)

—

**“If you sing that song one more time I will kill you.”**

“What song?”

“I don’t know but it’s driving me crazy.”

Sara shot Greg the most disgruntled look he’d ever seen on her—at least so far today. After years of working together, Greg was fairly acclimated to Sara’s “quirks” and almost found them to be endearing. _Almost_.

“Didn’t realize I was singing anything.”

“Hey, you wanna make yourself useful?”

“Useful, huh? Sanders at your service.”

The irritated CSI flipped through her files and paper-clipped a few pages together, handing them to Greg with a forced toothy grin.

“Give this to Catherine for me.”

“Okey dokey.”

Greg knew it was just a made up task to kick him out of the room but he took the bait anyways. Even bah humbug Sara Sidle wouldn’t be able to ruin Greg’s good mood today.

But now it was Catherine’s turn to suffer. Greg arrived at her door and unleashed a storm of obnoxious melodic knocks before the stoney redhead glanced up to meet his eyes.

“What can I do for you Greg?”

“Sara wanted me to drop off these very important files to you.”

Catherine’s eyes tightened as she scanned the stack of papers.

“Thanks Greg, I’ll take those.”

He handed over the files but remained in her office; almost waiting for Catherine to say something.

“... _I bet she didn't think twice about Amarillo, hell Denver all but once crossed her mind_ …”

“What’d you say Greg?”

“Oh nothing. See ya later Cath!”

Greg took the opportunity to slip out of the room before Catherine could ask any more questions. But on his way back to the layout room Greg was halted by a loud voice urgently calling out his name.

“Greg!”

He was confronted by Grissom’s intense owl eyes.

“Yes boss?”

“I’ve been looking for you. Where are you on those samples we recovered from the comic convention?”

“Right, the red fibers. Poly satin fabric from an article of clothing. It’s a comic convention so my guess is it’s from a costume. And because I aim to please, I recovered a smudged print that I sent over to Jacqui already. If you come with, I can give you the report—”

Grissom simply shook his head and took off in the opposite direction as if his shoes were on fire. He was clearly more interested in Jacqui’s findings but for once, Greg didn’t mind.

“ _Givin' neck down in New Orleans. Puttin' me through hell_...”

“What’s that?”

Warrick stopped in the middle of the hallway and crossed his arms thoughtfully; blocking Greg's passage.

“What’s what?”

“The song you’re singing.”

“Nothing.”

“Right. Get any hits in CODIS for my DNA soup?”

“Nada. Recovered a weak partial but I can’t guarantee it’ll turn up anything. Maybe if you had something for comparison—”

“Are you serious? Come on Greg, I thought you were the expert.”

“Expert not magician, Warrick. You said it was a swanky swinger’s soirée right? I’m thinkin’ the type of people that have parties in mansions probably don’t have prints in the system. But bring me something to compare it to and I’ll show you just how much of an expert I am.”

“Yeah yeah Billie Eilish boy. Whatever.”

Warrick threw his hands in the air and headed back to the trace lab to see if Hodges had found anything instead.

“* _I*_ know the song you’re singing.”

_Uh oh. Busted._

Greg held his breath as he came face to face with the one person whom he could never lie to—Jacqui. She smugly tapped a finger on her chin and waited for her prey to come closer.

“Thought Grissom was going to you for that partial.”

“Already came and went. Don’t play that game with me Sanders, you know who you’re dealing with.”

“How’d you figure it out?” Greg asked, hoping to call her bluff.

But Jacqui either had the best poker face in the world or an impossible hand up her sleeve.

“I pay attention.”

“I don’t know, could be fakin’.”

“Jacqui Franco is a lot of things, but faker is not one of them. You on the other hand...” 

Jacqui grabbed Greg’s shoulders and pulled him into the empty print lab which only unsettled him even further. In that moment Greg realized exactly what song he had been singing all day and _knew_ Jacqui was going to have a field day with him.

“Prove it.”

“One word: Dallas.”

Greg immediately clasped an index finger over her mouth. Jacqui smirked through the shush, knowing she was correct as always.

“All right all right let’s keep a lid on it.”

“Thought so. I also figured out who you’re singin’ it for.”

“Who?”

“Rhymes with blokes.”

“Okay...what do you want?”

He already knew what she wanted. Jacqui popped a finger onto her head which only confirmed Greg’s suspicions.

“I’m not wearing the swami hat.”

“Then I’m tellin’ Hodges you’re dating N—”

“Give me the hat.”

—

“Hey G.”

“Hey.”

Nick casually dropped by Greg’s lab with a handful of samples to process, idly touching the diagnostic machines stacked along the blonde’s desk. But Nick made a full stop once he saw the strange piece of costume wear sitting atop Greg’s head.

“What’s with the…”

Greg’s eyes constricted as he glared at the oblivious Texan.

“It’s because of you.”

“Me? What I do?”

“I bought Jacqui’s silence. She knows.”

Breaking into a cold sweat, Nick made sure no one was around before lowering his voice and whispering, “What do you mean she knows?”

“She figured it out Nick.”

“How?”

“Apparently I’ve been singing a song all over the lab today and didn’t even know it.”

“What song?”

Greg turned to Nick, his expression going deadpan as he began to recite, “ _She's gettin' dicked down in Dallas, railed out in Raleigh, tag teamed up in Tennessee. Anal in Austin, butt fucked in Boston. Givin' neck down in New Orleans_ —”

Nick manually shut Greg’s mouth with his hands to stop the oncoming barrage of expletives.

“Man what the hell is that? I’ve never heard that song in my life.”

“I know. I found it randomly after you...you know. _Dicked me down_.”

A heavy blush crept up from Nick’s neck and evenly distributed itself throughout his body.

“Can we not talk about this at work?”

“That was the plan.”

“A-anyways, I need these samples processed,” Nick stuttered, nearly dropping the evidence bags as he passed them to Greg, “They’re from the uh...scene.”

Greg smirked knowing he made the older man nervous and playfully swiped the samples from Nick’s hands.

“The things I do for you.”

“And the things you do _to_ me.” Nick countered.

“Mmm. I may need a little refresher. Tonight after work?”

“Yeah, you can come over. But uh, don’t sing that song again. _Please_.”

“Then give me a new song to sing.”

“Oh I’ll give you something to sing about.” Nick gritted between his teeth, throwing one of Greg’s entertainment magazines at him.

—


End file.
